


The Demons Dance at Midnight

by mother_finch



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: F/F, Gen, mother-finch fiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-16
Updated: 2015-07-16
Packaged: 2018-04-09 16:12:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4355642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mother_finch/pseuds/mother_finch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>PROMPT: Shoot prompt: Even after Shaw is back from Samaratin's hands, Root is still having nightmares of the Stock Exchange and wakes up in the middle of the night scared to death that Shaw is gone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Demons Dance at Midnight

Her pulse races as she feels lips leave hers and hands on her arms. The air escapes her lungs in a whoosh as everything is gone except for gravity- pulling her down. Her heel snags on the ground, and she stumbles backward, nothing but blue and grey smears in her vision as everything moves too fast. Then, there are hands under her arms, and the colors snap to focus. Her heart slams through her rib cage as adrenaline and fear surge through her veins. She can feel her pulse slamming down to her fingertips, and can hear nothing over the rushing of blood as it surges through her temples like the rapids. There is a rattling noise, then lattice metal drops down before her, creating a cage between the inside and out.  _Between me and her_. It hits her with the force of a mac truck as it crashes into her chest, breaking every bone in her body. There is a lock clicking into place. She pushes herself up past the hands, forcing her way out of their hold, but it's like swimming through oil.

_Shaw._

* * *

 

Her eyes give a microscopic flicker back to her before she turns, raising her gun as she runs away from the gating. She sees Shaw stop at the far wall, fingers stretching out for a button, finding it, slamming it in. Deafening gears start up in her ears, and the sound of grinding metal is devastatingly loud. She pushes harder and the hands fall away. She throws herself at the lattice barrier, fingers curling around the thin strips of metal, rattling their cage with the force. But the doors are closing.

 _You can make it_ , she thinks, a panic overcoming her as realization greets her with a bloody grin.  _You can make it, just run back to the lock, you can make it, you can-_

A bullet is a sonic boom as it blasts from Shaw's gun. The shell casing falls to the floor as she fires again. There is determination on her face, lips pressed together tight, eyes set straight ahead. There is a firing from somewhere out of sight, and Shaw is flung back, crimson coloring spraying into the air, mixing in with the debris that falls like rain from the ceiling. Lights flash as wires give their last crackling breaths of life- they illuminate her face. It hasn't changed; she doesn't know pain. Another bullet strikes her in the side, blood following the bullet's path as Shaw's entire body turns.

Like a damned angel, she falls. Lights flicker behind her as she drops to the ground, hair fanning out above her head in her ponytail; face hidden by her coat sleeve. She can see the elevator doors closing down at the edges of her sight now, like large lips swallowing them into darkness.

She feels hands on her wrists and hands on her forearms, fingers all tugging at her, calling her back to them. _I won't go, I won't_. The hands tighten around her as a woman walks into view, crisp suit and blonde bun untainted by the bloodshed of the world around her. This woman is clean, her domestic appearance a tragic irony. She ignores the hands, fighting against them to stay face up to the lattice, tightening her grip.

The woman lowers a gun to Shaw's head with sadistic eyes, and Shaw meets them with menacing loathing. There is a sneer on her lips and murder in her eyes as she lays, sprawled on the ground with blood pooling darkly around her. Shaw doesn't speak, doesn't beg to be spared or scream out a dying word; she doesn't look back to the elevator. She only watches the woman.

The hands are too strong on her now as they tear her away. Her fingers slip off the metal, fingernail catching and splitting down the middle. She can hear the harrowing sound of shrieking muffled by cotton, and tastes the blood in her mouth from her raw throat. The hands claw at her, dragging her back into the darkness as the elevator doors complete their travel down. Shaw's form blurs as she feels something hot at the edges of her eyes. She needs to blink, but doesn't dare close her eyes.

There is the feeling of icy metal on her back, and the lips swallow their confinement at last, leaving them in total darkness. The hands loosen, barely grazing her now, but there is no fight left. The fight died with the last burning traces of light.

_'CR-BANG!'_

_____________\ If Your Number's Up /_____________

Root shoots into a sitting position, heart ready to explode and sweat spilling down her face. She sucks in a mortified gasp of air, eyes large in her head. She brings a hand to her chest as her breathing comes in raggedly, all the while trying to calm down. Everything is dark, and she can't help the fear that rises in her throat.  _I'm in the elevator._

There is a small string of red lights to her left and she turns. Squinting against it, she sees numbers.

02:43

 _My alarm clock._  Root flops back down, head smacking against a pillow as her hair fans out under her. Her breath is still heavy, and she swipes the sweat from her forehead as her eyes begin to adjust. Slowly, her heart drops from a thunderstorm to heavy rain to a drizzle. Her throat feels raw, and she brings her fingers across it gingerly. She can feel wetness at the edges of her eyes, then a watery warmth as it snakes down the side of her face. Root brings her hands there next, their motions slowed by numbness. She wipes her eyes.

The stock exchange was still fresh in her mind. It was a demon that trailed her by day and consumed her by night. Seeing the events of that day, knowing how Shaw-

 _Shaw. Where is she?_  Root can only imagine. She could be anywhere, tortured by them at their leisure. The thought leaves her with an icy shiver. Root lies motionless a minute, staring up at the ceiling despairingly. When she can't stand the burning pain in her chest any longer, she breathes. Rolling over, she can see her phone's screen reflecting the red glow of the alarm clock. She picks it up.

At once, she is blinded by the brightness of the lock screen, and quickly turns it down. After the spots in her vision clear, she unlocks it. She wasn't sure what she was going to do.  _Maybe look through photos, messages..._

Her tired fingers, lacking all coordination, slip, pressing the phone call icon instead of messages. The first thing that greets her is a recent's log with the last number being Shaw's.

 _Wait, what?_  Her eyes widen and she sits up, holding the device close with fixation. The date is marked yesterday at one in the morning. It was answered.  _No, this can't be, it can't,_  Root says to herself, blinking harshly a few times.  _It has to be my eyes_. However, as much as she cannot believe it, she hits the dial button, then places it to her ear. Hearing the first ring is like a syringe of adrenaline injected right to the heart, and her entire body begins to hum.

_Pickup, pickup, pickup, pickup..._

The message tone takes over, and Root deflates, depression looming over her once more. She calls again; there is no answer again. With a defeated sigh, Root tosses it back on the nightstand, bringing her eyes back to the ceiling once more.  _She's gone,_  Root thinks with agony and guilt.  _She's gone and it's entirely my faul-_

Root's phone surges to life, screen glowing and speakers bursting with a tri-tone. She nearly jumps from her skin, heart skipping a beat as a nervousness eats holes through her stomach. She dares a glance at the phone, and her jaw hangs slack. Her hand flies out faster than she can comprehend, and- before she knows it- the phone is to her ear.

"H- Hel- Hello?"

"What the hell is it  _this_  time, Root." Disbelief flows through Root's system before happiness floods it out. However, before she has time for celebration, reality hits her.  _Shaw's been back for a month_. Chagrin instantly steals Root's words, and she is thankful Shaw is only on the phone, for her cheeks flush a vibrant red.

"I- uh- just calling to say hi," Root rattles off quickly. She can hear a disapproving sigh on the other end of the line.

" _Root_ ," Shaw says tiredly. Pauses. "Why are you up right now?" Root's heart hits faster as she puts her brain into overdrive, needing to find something to say. Something other than the truth.

"No reason." Root's mind trails back guiltily to the recent call log. All of the calls to Shaw in the past month, all of them between one to three in the morning just to be greeted for situations parallel to this one. You'd think Root would've remembered by now; however, with the vividness each dream held, there was no logic behind anything her wired mind created.

Root comes out of her thoughts to the silence on the line, and she presses her lips together. "Uh... Sameen?"

" _Yes?_ " Shaw asks, voice at the edge of patience.

"Nothing."

Silence.

"Can you give me a  _real_  answer this time?" Root bites her bottom lip at Shaw's words. She knew it wasn't going to be a worthy excuse- not after almost twenty-eight days of midnight messages- but she couldn't come up with anything else.

"I was just, you know, bored," Root replies coolly, taking steady breaths to keep her voice from trembling. "Thought I'd call around. See who was up. Maybe talk." There is a scratchy sound on the line, then what sounds like bed springs.

"I'm up," Shaw says at last, and Root's heart catches in her throat. "What do you want to talk about?" Root smiles, heat warming the parts of her still cold from the dream. Most nights ended with a swift goodbye, or- when Shaw was fed up with it- a ' _Go to bed,_ ' and hang up before Root could even get a word out. Once, Shaw fell back asleep on the line before more than greetings were shared. Root sat there a while that night, just listening. It was weird, how at ease she was hearing Shaw breathe- something she hadn't known she needed until Shaw was taken.

"Root.  _Hello_? What do you want to talk about." Root is snapped from the memory at Shaw's firm tone.

"Oh, um, whatever," Root says quickly. "Whatever you want."

"Let's talk about why you haven't let me  _sleep_  since I got back," Shaw says bluntly, and Root winces.  _Shit, this is going to be bad_. Still, past this, she brings a natural calm over herself, slipping into her daily character.

"I worry about you, Sameen," Root coos out fondly, and can almost feel the eye roll from the other side of the line.

"Yeah," Shaw snorts indignantly, "because sleep is such a  _dangerous_  thing."

"You have  _no_  idea," Root mutters back under her breath.

"I heard that," Shaw responds, and Root closes her eyes with a sigh. "What happened."

"Sweetie, it’s fi-"

"It wasn't a question." Root purses her lips, eyes opening slowly. She sits silent a while, not knowing what to say or how to say it. Finally, after countless minutes, she clears her throat.

" _Fine_ ," Root says, tone revealing that she is not amused. "Just remember  _you're_  the one who wanted to know."

______________\ We'll Find You /_______________

After a twenty minute explanation of night terrors and demons dancing in her head, Root stops, drawing in a long breath. She hadn't realized everything she had to say until she was done. It was like she had a teacup balanced inside, but when it tipped over, a hogshead worth of contents spilled out. A few seconds of silence fill the space between them, broken only by the slightest hum of white noise, as Shaw absorbs all that's been said. Finally, she sighs.

"Sounds like you could use a pizza."

Root can't help the small, stress relieving laugh that escapes her. _She doesn't think I'm crazy_. She could have easily shot Root down, told her to stop, or teased her endlessly for what Root found childish.  _But she didn't._

The buzzer on Root's apartment door rings, and Root takes pause. Her eyes travel in the door's direction, but the rest of her cross-legged form remains utterly still. Then, a disbelieving smirk spreads over her face. Her head cocks to side as she regains control of her limbs, and she stands.

"You did  _not_  deliver a pizza here," Root says, trying in vain to hide the amusement and shock in her voice. Ignoring the icy cold of the floor on her bear feet, she tiptoes to her front door.

"No..." Shaw replies just as Root looks out the peephole. Her eyes widen slightly, and she quickly unlocks it, yanking it open. "I  _brought_  a pizza here."

Root stands in the doorway a minute, not sure she truly believes the sight before her. Shaw- dressed in a baggy black t-shirt, dark jeans, and sneakers- standing at her door at three in the morning?  _Never._

"Are you going to let me in?" Shaw asks with characteristic annoyance. "It was hard enough for me to not eat this in the car. I'm not waiting much longer." Root snaps to, side stepping and opening the door wide, allowing Shaw to walk in.

Shaw, looking around without too much care, makes her way to the kitchen, Root following with stupefaction close behind. Root can smell the aroma of fresh bread and melted cheese as it wafts through the air. She flicks a switch, and the room becomes instantly bathed in light. Shaw's face comes clearly into view, and Root feels a pang of guilt at seeing dark rims under her eyes.

"You didn't have to show up," Root tells her, words slightly mumbled past a sheepish film. Shaw opens the box, letting another wave of mouth watering smells greet her, and she gives a quick glance up, small half smile on her face.

"I know," she replies. Then, on a joking note, she adds, "but I was  _dying_  for something good to eat. Hope pepperoni's not a problem." Shaw takes a slice, plopping it onto a napkin for a fraction of a second before bringing the lava-like substance to her mouth. Root smiles, watching Shaw a moment, taking her in. The sight of her alive and well. Shaw looks up, sees her staring, and does a double take. "What?" She asks, voice thick behind a mouthful of pizza. Root shrugs her shoulders before taking a seat across from Shaw.

Picking out a slice, folding it down the center, and taking a bite, she keeps affectionate eyes focused on Shaw. Shaw must feel it, for she looks back up, swallowing and placing the remnants of her food down on the napkin. She rolls her tongue across the inside of her mouth awkwardly, unsure what to say or do.

"So, nightmares, huh?" She says, and Root purses her lips, dropping the pizza down and placing her forehead in her left hand.

"Yeah."

Shaw nods. "They're a real bitch."

Root smiles. "Tell me about it." There is silence for a small while, as Shaw gives her an odd look, picks up her pizza, then places it- untouched- back down.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" A welling of warmth swells inside Root at hearing the words, she finds the room feeling three times brighter.

"You're already doing it," Root replies with an easygoing kick, ignoring the butterflies as they invade her stomach. She can see the slight shift in Shaw's eyes as she studies Root for a half second before responding.

"Eating  _pizza_?" Shaw responds, although her voice gives away that she knows there's more to it. "I could do this  _every_  night." At first, Root laughs, but then it fizzles away as a smirk appears on her face.

" _Really_?" She asks coyly, eyes looking Shaw over quickly. Shaw's face remains expressionless for a few hard seconds; then, a devious smile quirks up the corners of her lips.

"I guess you'll just have to find out tomorrow, won’t you?"


End file.
